by Linda Finlay
‘You mean you like them?’ she asked, her cake halfway to her mouth.
‘I do indeed, Miss Dyer. More importantly, I know I can place them and would like to buy from you. First, though, I need assurance you will be able to provide me with knit frocks of this design and quality on a regular basis.’
She nodded eagerly. ‘But what about the others?’ she asked.
‘I would like to buy those as well and will make you a fair offer. However, it is this shell design that will command a higher price. Now, I just need to speak with someone, so enjoy your refreshment and we’ll do business when I return.’
Merry watched as he strode from the room then settled back in her chair. He liked her design and was going to buy from her. She glanced at the cake, deciding she was too excited to manage even one mouthful. The fruit glistened temptingly on the plate and, giving in to temptation, she snatched it up and took a bite. It was so delicious that by the time Mr Fairbright returned her plate was empty.
‘Just as I thought, we can definitely place these,’ he said, smiling at her. As he named a price beyond her wildest hopes, it took all her willpower not to shriek in delight. ‘There is one proviso, though.’ As he stared at her with those candid hazel eyes, she held her breath. ‘I need your solemn promise that you will deliver the same quantity here in exactly one month.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she assured him, daring to breathe again.
‘Good. Then I shall tell Miss Brown to enter your appointment in the diary. It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Dyer, and long may we continue to do so.’
Armed with fresh yarn and a heavy purse, Merry skipped down the steps and onto the street. There was no sign of Nicco and as she stared around her attention was caught by the notes of a hurdy-gurdy. A little white dog sporting a pointed hat was dancing in time to the music and behind him red and white striped awnings flapped in the breeze. Excitement bubbled and she found herself irresistibly drawn towards the attractions.
Merry had never seen anything like it and she darted from stall to stall in delight. One was a treasure trove of gewgaws, ribbons and pearl buttons. Another was piled high with bolts of brightly coloured materials, silks and threads, but it was the jewel-coloured shawls and bonnets edged with taffeta that caught her attention. Oblivious of the crowds milling around, she edged closer. She was just running a finger over the soft kid of a glove and picturing herself dressed in such finery when she felt a jolt in her back and pressure on her pocket.
‘Oi, take your hands off me,’ she screamed, her hand going to her purse.
‘Unhand my girl this minute.’ As the authoritative voice rent the air, a shadowy figure hurriedly disappeared into the crowd. Black eyes blazing, Nicco grabbed Merry’s hand and pulled her away.
‘You fool,’ he hissed. ‘Anything could have happened to you.’
Merry felt the weight in her pocket and smiled. ‘No harm done,’ she assured him, holding her purse aloft.
‘Put that away at once,’ Nicco ordered, marching her towards his cart. ‘Have you no sense? This isn’t sleepy Porthsallos. The town’s a dangerous place, Merry. Why do you think I told you to wait for me? Now climb in and let’s get home.’ Seeing his angry face, her earlier euphoria drained away.
‘I was only looking at the finery,’ she explained.
‘With a purse stuffed with coins? Really!’ he spluttered, slapping the poor donkey’s withers.
Feeling stupid, Merry stared down at her boots, the shock of what might have happened sinking in. Supposing her purse had been stolen, what would Grozen and her mother have said? They hadn’t been keen for her to make the journey in the first place.
She stole a glance at Nicco. With his back ramrod straight and his face set as a mask, he looked quite overbearing. Not daring to break the silence she watched as he concentrated on avoiding the other carts and travellers. Finally she could stand it no longer.
‘Goodness, it’s much busier than when we came,’ she remarked, eager to break the tension.
‘Seeing as you slept most of the way here you are hardly in a position to compare,’ he pointed out.
Did he have to be so pompous? She’d only had a tiny nap.
Irked beyond reason, she lapsed into silence and they reached the ferry without further conversation. As they crossed the wide expanse of water, she relaxed and felt her spirits rising. This ferryman, a younger, more handsome man than on the way over earlier, caught her eye and winked. Glad to see a cheerful face, she smiled back, only to have Nicco grab her hand. Angrily, she made to snatch it away but his grip tightened.
‘Come on, Merry, surely you’ve learned your lesson about not trusting strangers,’ he hissed. When she didn’t answer, he sighed. ‘I’m not cross with you any more.’
‘Look, Nicco, I admit I shouldn’t have wandered off, especially with my purse full, but you are not my keeper.’
‘No, not yet,’ he answered, staring into her eyes.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she spluttered, but the ferry had reached the bank and for a moment he was too busy gathering up the reins to answer.
‘Let’s just say I can see why your mother was worried about you going to Plymouth on your own and …’ he began.
‘What has my mother got to do with anything?’ Merry asked, her earlier suspicion returning.
Nicco shrugged, his supercilious expression sending her blood bubbling, but the day had caught up with her and she suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired. She just wanted to get home, she thought, stifling a yawn.
‘It’s a good job you didn’t have to walk,’ he said, grinning at last.
‘Meeting me on the way was no coincidence, was it?’ she asked. As he gave another superior grin something niggled at the back of her mind but try as she might she couldn’t think what it was.
The wind rose, buffeting the little cart from side to side and making further talk impossible. Merry shivered, tightening her shawl around her and wishing the journey over. It was growing dark by the time they reached the village and she was pleased to see the welcome flickering of candles coming from the cottages below. As the donkey slowed at the brow of the hill, she quickly gathered up her parcel of yarn and jumped out before Nicco had a chance to remember his invitation to supper.
‘Thanks for the lift,’ she called. Ignoring his protests, she ran down the hill, darting into the warren that led to their little cottage.
Her mother threw open the door, fussing as if she’d been away a week instead of a day.
‘Come in and sit yourself in front of the fire, our Merry,’ she urged. ‘I’ll get your supper.’
‘How did you get on?’ Grozen asked, getting down to business as usual.
‘Very well indeed. Mr Fairbright’s a really nice man,’ Merry grinned, her good mood returning as she handed over her purse. Her grandmother’s relief was evident.
‘Why there’s enough here to pay the rent and buy food,’ she exclaimed. ‘I suppose it was your mother’s work that commanded such fine payment.’
‘Mr Fairbright liked all our work, Grozen, but surprisingly it was my shell-pattern frocks he paid most for.’
‘Really,’ the old woman said, her eyes widening in surprise. ‘You hear that, Karenza?’
‘Well done, Merry,’ her mother said, handing her a steaming bowl. ‘I’ll see if I can get us a sheep’s head or something tomorrow to celebrate. It’ll make a nice change from this limpet broth.’
‘Not half,’ Grozen replied with feeling. ‘Is this the yarn this Fairbright gave you?’ As Merry nodded, the woman gathered it up, hurried over to the dresser and placed it carefully on the old scales. ‘Well, he’s not diddled you,’ she proclaimed.
‘I told you, he’s a nice man, Grozen,’ Merry said, pausing mid-sip.
‘Doesn’t pay to be too trusting of people you don’t know,’ Grozen grunted, looking meaningfully at Karenza as she settled back into her chair. She looped a hank of the indigo wool over her hands, then leaned closer to he
r daughter, who automatically began winding it into a ball.
They were acting casually but Merry wasn’t fooled, and no sooner had she put down her spoon than they pressed her to tell them about her day. She told them about her deal with the agent and the disagreeable Miss Brown, but omitted to mention the incident in the market. There was no point in worrying them.
‘You mean you’ll have to make the journey each month?’ her mother asked, looking worried.
Merry’s heart leaped at the thought and she nodded excitedly. ‘I promised I would return with the next order then, and Mr Fairbright even entered my appointment in his diary,’ she said, her eyes shining. ‘Knowing we’ll be paid regularly will make a difference, won’t it?’
‘Yes, it will mean we can eat,’ Grozen said. ‘Then when the pilchards come in there’ll be the money you’ll get for working in the fish store,’ she added, giving Karenza a knowing look.
‘It can’t happen too quickly for we still need to pay the rent. Tell me, Merry, did you meet anyone along the way?’ her mother asked, trying to sound casual.
‘Yes, lots of people. The man on the ferry was really nice,’ she replied.
Her mother frowned but Grozen wasn’t to be put off.
‘Did you walk all the way, our Merry?’
‘Couldn’t walk over the water, Grozen, could I?’ Merry quipped. She wasn’t going to make it easy for them.
‘But didn’t Nicco give you a lift?’ her mother asked.
‘Why? Did you expect him to?’
‘Well, he did say he had someone to see in Plymouth and …’
‘You told him exactly where I was going and when,’ Merry cried, remembering how Nicco had taken her straight to the agent’s premises. ‘Look, Mother, I am seventeen and quite capable of looking out for myself.’
‘More like you be the right age to be thinking of getting wed,’ Grozen retorted.
‘I intend seeing more of life outside Porthsallos before I saddle myself with a husband and family,’ Merry retorted, already tired of the conversation.
‘But Nicco is …’ her mother began.
‘Nicco is what?’
‘Well, he’s fond of you, our Merry.’
‘And he would make a good catch,’ Grozen added.
‘He’s not a fish, Grozen.’
‘Happen not, but his father owns the fish factory and if you married him …’
‘I’d have a comfortable life when his father dies, is that it?’
‘Well, it is a consideration, our Merry,’ Grozen pointed out, fixing her with a gimlet look.
‘And you’d have no need to venture out of the village,’ her mother added.
‘I’m tired and going to bed,’ Merry said, getting to her feet. She had every intention of returning to the town, and next time she would make the journey by herself.
CHAPTER 4
Despite the disagreement with her mother and grandmother, Merry slept soundly. She knew they meant well but it was her life, and the desire to see more of the world was gnawing away inside her like a mouse in the cheese cupboard. Feeling apprehensive and fearing an argument, she made her way down the little stone steps the next morning. However, her worry was unfounded.
‘Morning, Merry,’ her mother greeted her brightly. ‘I managed to get a nice bit of mutton from butcher Blade so there’ll be no forays in the pools for you today. We shall celebrate your success with a decent meal.’
Merry smiled and impulsively kissed the woman’s cheek. She should have known her mother wouldn’t bear a grudge.
‘That’ll make a tasty change,’ she enthused. ‘I was beginning to look like a limpet.’
Her mother laughed. ‘Well, here’s some porridge for you to start the day. That money you got yesterday will see us nicely through the next couple of weeks, though we’ll still have to be careful until the pilchards show.’
Merry smiled as she took the bowl. Breakfast had become a luxury and she tucked in with pleasure.
‘You didn’t finish telling us about your trip yesterday,’ her mother said, not looking up from her chopping board.
‘It was lovely to see life outside the village, Mother. There was a fair with all these stalls. You should have seen the brightly coloured materials and trimmings …’
‘Think the wind’s swung round at last,’ Grozen cried, clattering into the room and throwing an armful of sticks down on the hearth. ‘The gaffer’s offered a reward for the person sighting the first shoal, so get yerself up to the point straight away, our Merry.’
‘But I’m in the middle of my breakfast, Grozen,’ she protested.
The woman fixed her with a gimlet stare and Merry knew there was little point in arguing. Grabbing her shawl and hitching her work to her belt, she hurried outside. The cliff path was already lined with excited women and the mood was merrier than it had been for many months. Taking up her position she stabbed her ball of wool on a spike of the railings and called a cheerful greeting. Although it was returned, nobody lifted their gaze from the foam-topped waves, for each woman was desperate to be the one to sight the first shoal and collect the reward.
‘Keep your peepers peeled for that slick of oil, our Merry.’ She jumped as her grandmother’s strident tones carried up the hill, sending seagulls squawking from the rooftops. Trust Grozen to be watching from their cottage window.
Adjusting the wooden fish supporting the weight of her work, she automatically began knitting as she scoured the waters for any sign of disturbance that would signal the return of the pilchards. While her fingers wound the worsted wool around her pins, her thoughts raced around her head. Of course, she hoped this day would bring the bounty from the sea the village relied on. Yet if it did, she would have to spend the evening packing and salting the fish. The extra money would be welcome but the attention from Nicco wouldn’t.
Her mother might think Nicco a good man but Merry knew he had an eye for the girls and she’d already borne witness to his overbearing manner. She could understand her mother wanting her to make a good marriage so that Merry wouldn’t have to suffer the privations she and Grozen had. Whilst it might be her dearest wish to see Merry settled down with umpteen offspring tumbling around her feet, it wasn’t hers. Unlike her friends, who were happy to marry and bear children, Merry wanted more out of life.
‘Just think, if the pilchards are in, you’ll be seeing the handsome Nicco tonight,’ Jenna called from higher up the path. Merry turned and smiled, wishing not for the first time that her friend wouldn’t pick up on her thoughts.
‘If I weren’t married to my Stanley, I’d be giving you a run for your money, my girl,’ Kelys cackled. There was a burst of raucous laughter, for the woman was well into her forties with hair as steel as her knitting pins.
Nicco, Nicco, Nicco, the gulls seemed to mock as they circled overhead. Merry sighed. She knew the others found her reluctance to encourage him strange. They thought him handsome but his penetrating stares and smarmy smiles made her feel uncomfortable, and that was without his declaration on the way to Plymouth.
‘Knit two, purl six, and twist the wool,’ she muttered, reaching the yoke and beginning her shell pattern. Truth to tell she hadn’t done much knitting on the journeys to and from Plymouth and she needed to make up for it now.
Fingers flying and pins clacking, she stared over the water, past Peak Rock to the imposing granite house on the cliff top beyond. How lovely it would be to live in a grand place like that instead of their tiny, cramped fisherman’s cottage where you could hear every sound your neighbours made.
A movement caught her eye and she watched as the woman she knew to be Lady Sutherland emerged through the carved wooden door and climbed into a waiting carriage. Wearing a fitted coat over her full-skirted dress, and sporting a hat with three plumes, she cut an elegant figure. Merry grimaced at her own old blouse with its fraying collar and the serviceable apron covering her patched skirt. One day she too would dress and travel like a lady, she vowed. Remembering the finery she�
��d seen on the stalls in Plymouth, a thrill ran through her.
‘Hevva! Hevva!’
She jumped as the excited shout from higher up the hill broke into her thoughts. Knitting forgotten, the eager women crowded closer to the railings, lifting their hands to their foreheads as they scoured the sea for sight of the shoal.
Drat, thought Merry, she’d been daydreaming when she should have been paying attention. She hoped it was a false alarm, thinking of the ticking-off she’d get from Grozen.
Her wish was thwarted as down below the lurker boat was already showing the men in the sean boat the area to be enclosed. Then the nets were shot and silence fell as everyone waited for the signal. They knew the slightest sound could send the fish scattering in all directions. There was a collective sigh of relief as the master seaner raised his hat and the nets were taken in. Merry watched the mesh encircling the shoal as the ropes tightened. Then, as her gaze took in the thick walls surrounding the harbour, she shuddered, feeling just as hemmed in. Her friends, however, were cheering and clapping Marya on the back. They might be disappointed they hadn’t been the ones to spot the shoal but were pleased for this uncomplaining woman, with her crippled husband and seven children to provide for. Besides, tonight would see them busy gutting and salting the fish and nobody minded the extra hard work if it meant full bellies and warm firesides.
‘Come along, Merry,’ Jenna urged, catching hold of her arm. ‘It’ll be some time before we’re needed to help so let’s wait down on the quay and you can tell me about your trip to Plymouth.’
Eager to delay the inevitable ticking-off she’d get from her grandmother when she found out someone else had claimed the reward, Merry nodded.
‘Come on then,’ she agreed, linking arms with her friend as they followed the others down the winding path.
Those lucky enough to have dried fruit and sugar left in their pantries ran home to make hevva cakes to celebrate the catch of pilchards, whilst the rest of them, ever hopeful their friends would share this traditional fare with them later, made their way to the harbour. No sooner had they taken their seats on the steps than they all turned towards Merry.